


A Good Day for Snow, A Bad Day for 'Restor

by AdviserOfImladris (orphan_account)



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Erestor doesn't, Erestor is happy, Glorfindel bothers him again, Glorfindel takes matters into his own hands, Glorfindel wants to go play in the snow, Kinda fluff, LITERALLY, M/M, snow outside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/AdviserOfImladris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erestor had been having a happy day in his study before his lover burst in and decided that they were both going to 'play' in the snow.  Erestor didn't want to, but then Glorfindel did the most terrible offense ever - read to find out what it was!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Day for Snow, A Bad Day for 'Restor

Another mindless, boring day. Erestor sighed happily as he completed the reports he was working on. Nothing had been unusual in the slightest, nothing had reverted from his perfect schedule – and then the door to his study burst open and Glorfindel stood there in all his shining glory.

Erestor sighed, this time in resignation, as his lover strode across the room and slammed his hands down on Erestor’s desk, his face alit with one of his annoying beatific smiles. “Erestor!”

“Glorfindel,” muttered Erestor, putting the reports in a drawer and placing his favorite quill to the side. He looked up at the golden-haired Elda with mild displeasure. He usually never minded being interrupted by his gorgeous mate, but he was supposed to be working right now. It wasn’t a good time to bother him. “What do you want now?”

“What do I want?” exclaimed Glorfindel, somewhat disappointed. “Come now, it was a wonderful day today! Why weren’t you out there when the sun was shining and –”

“It’s snowing,” said Erestor bluntly.

Glorfindel frowned. The expression somehow seemed wrong on his face. “Yes, it’s snowing. You say that as if it’s a bad thing, but it’s not!” He was smiling again. “I think you should go outside and throw a few snowballs, engage with someone for once.”

“I engage with plenty of people,” Erestor said curtly, deciding to remain seated where he was.

“Oh, of course, for work purposes. When was the last time you had a congenial chat with someone?”

“I didn’t even know you knew the word congenial.”

Glorfindel ignored his grumpy attitude. His lover tended to be like that when he was interrupted. “My point is, you need to relax a little and go out in the snow.” He pointed to the firmly closed window. “Even Elrond is out there playing with his children! And they’re fully grown!”

Erestor sighed again. “Glorfindel, ‘playing in the snow’, as you so aptly put it, would most certainly not relax me. I –”

“I will not take no for an answer,” said Glorfindel, crossing his arms across his broad chest and his eyes narrowing dangerously. Erestor decided to retreat carefully. It was never a good idea to truly invoke the interest of the Balrog-slayer when he was worried about someone’s welfare. “Now, Glorfindel, look…I think that –”

Glorfindel moved faster than he had ever seen the warrior move before – in the blink of an eye, maybe less, he felt himself scooped up from his seat and tossed over a strong shoulder. Erestor howled in outrage. “Put me down this instance, you – you Elda!”

“No, I’m going to take you outside, where you can enjoy the fresh air and the snow,” called Glorfindel to his luggage, laughing uproariously.

Erestor squirmed, kicked, and hit, but nothing he did seemed to have an effect on Glorfindel, since the Balrog-slayer just laughed all the harder. Fortunately the halls were empty at this time, since everyone was either huddled up next to a fire – which was the sensible thing to do – or out playing in the snow. When Glorfindel reached the main walkway that led to the front doors, Erestor just knew someone was going to see him – the Chief Counselor thrown over someone’s shoulders like a sack of – of potatoes or something.

“Let me down!” he snapped, kicking once more, but Glorfindel had a firm grip on his legs and they couldn’t do any damage.

“You know,” Glorfindel started, his laughter abating somewhat, “you have got to be the lightest weight I have ever carried. When was the last time you ate, anyway?”

Erestor was about to send a snarky reply back when he stopped and thought about that, his struggles slowing somewhat. He hadn’t come to supper, he had completely forgotten the time and it flew by…what about the noon meal? No, wait, Lord Elrond had needed those letters rechecked so he had foregone that meal. Oh, and breakfast wasn’t even worth thinking about. He never ate breakfast. Curse the Balrog-slayer! Now that he was thinking about food, he was hungry.

But then he realized Glorfindel hadn’t waited for an answer and just kept talking. “If you weren’t wearing these heavy black robes all the time –” To demonstrate, Glorfindel tugged on the end of the ebony robe Erestor was wearing at that very moment, “– then you’d probably float away or something.”

“I would not,” growled Erestor, resorting himself to pounding Glorfindel’s back once more with his fists.

“I actually prefer you without them,” Glorfindel confided with an obvious laugh in his tone. To prove his point, his hand snuck up beneath Erestor’s robes and he ran his fingers along his lover’s pert backside.

Erestor released a startled shriek. “Your hand is freezing! Stop it!”

“Ah, here we are!” Glorfindel’s words were almost blown away by a cold draft that swept around Erestor’s face and blew his dark locks into a flurry. He would not be affected by the cold, of course, but he could still feel it.

“I swear by the Valar, Círdan’s beard, and Galadriel’s Mirror that if you bring me out there tossed over your shoulder in front of everyone, I will cut off all your golden hair while you sleep and then hang it over my fireplace.”

“I thought you didn’t swear,” Glorfindel said, and Erestor could feel him smirking.

“I will –”

“Okay, okay, I’ll put you down. Don’t worry; no one’s around to see. But – oh, look.”

“I can’t look,” Erestor bit off, wondering why in Arda would the Valar choose to send back such an insufferable elf such as this one. Why not grant…say, Ecthelion a second life? The legends said he was very easy-going, nice, not such a pig-headed annoying Elda that Glorfindel was. Well…his actions in the bed were quite satisfying – but really!

“It’s just a snowdrift,” Glorfindel said casually, and immediately Erestor went on high alert. “Glorfindel, you’d better not!”

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt!” reassured Glorfindel, then laughed wildly as he swung Erestor upright and chucked him into a huge pile of snow that had fallen off the roof. Airy snow floated up into the wind as the black-clad elf vanished underneath the stuff. He came up a moment later, a furious expression on his face.

Glorfindel had but one moment to enjoy the sight of the adviser covered in bits of snow, his robes wrinkled and his black hair mussed, before Erestor came at him with a murderous glint in his eyes.

Glorfindel fled before Erestor’s wrath, laughing the whole way to the Bruinen. (Where Erestor smashed into him, they both fell into the water, and then came back; both dripping wet and flushed from something Elrond suspected wasn’t the icy river.)


End file.
